[open] september catch-all

[subigito]

Who: Astarion & Anyone!
Status: Open
Where: Everywhere in the Maiden Voyage Log
What: This is an open log so I can make prompts at my leisure throughout the month instead of one giant top level in one go!
Warnings: Some threads will contain spoilers or nsfw material, as marked.



Maiden Voyage: Capture the Flag, Learning the Ropes, Special Delivery

MANTA Board: unconventional couture
MANTA Board: pickpocketing practice
MANTA Board: bottle voyage

ETC: Housing

Comments

MANTA Board: unconventional couture

[subigito]

a. backstage

[ Astarion still isn't sure why he agreed to this. Well, that's not quite right. He does know why he agreed to this, he wants this "pocket gun" they were discussing, because surely the more concealed weapons on your person, the better, even if you aren't 100% proficient in them. Proficiency can be learned, probably? Maybe? Whatever, it sounds fun. And then he won't have to bring only knives to gunfights. He can bring knives and a pocket gun.

He finds it easy enough to get into the the costume. If he can unlock any lock, he can lace a corset. He pulls on a shawl to cover the part of his back that the corset doesn't quite reach and then...

Surely he's not nervous, at least, that's what he keeps telling himself. He can be found staring at a mirror, running his hand through his hair, adjusting it and the black feathers he's placed in it nervously. He messes with the gold costume jewelry adorning his long ears.

But he can't see it.

That's the real problem. No matter how much he looks in the mirror, no matter how much he pretends, he'll never be able to know what it really looks like on him. What others will see when he shows this off. He wants to preen and look pretty and enjoy this as much as the next person. Certainly the mistress thought this would suit his body just fine. In the end, though, it's not for him. ]

You look beautiful, darling.

[ He says it to the mirror--to where his reflection should be--and he tries to believe it. ]

b. showing off

[ Astarion might have a +0 to charisma, but he makes up for it in sheer force of will and bonuses to deception, persuasion, and performance. If you look up "fake it 'til you make it" in the dictionary, he's there smiling charismatically. And so, whatever nerves might have plagued him offstage, he's the consummate professional when given a role.

Even amongst the haughty guests, he seems to absolutely thrive on the attention. A bit of a teasing glance here, a lift of the skirt there--he plays to the crowd like it is second nature.

And so as he's making the rounds, he places his hand on a empty chair and nods to it. ]

May I join you?

[ Welcome to the timeshare presentation portion of the evening please buy one of these dresses or...whatever this woman is actually selling. ]

c. what have you got there??

[ After the show is all over and he's collected his one silk dress (the fabric is really to die for, although he's not sure how practical it's going to be with all the piracy) it's time to go figure out about this pocket gun. If you wanted to see a fantasy man deal with the advent of modern weaponry now is your chance! Of course, this thing is barely powerful at all but it does shoot bullets. Though judging by how poorly Astarion is hitting the targets--and his growing frustration over it--not well. ]

How in the hells is anyone supposed to aim this thing?

[ Arrows are easier! This is unfair! ]

» b

[tilfrosset]

[The night's barely just begun, but to be honest, Jill's more than ready to head back to her room on the ship. This was a mistake. She's just doing it because the mistress needed help and gods forbid Jill turn her back on someone in need. Should have found out what kind of need it was before she agreed, but what's done is done and she's stuck here, watching the others mill about and be social in ways she can't. Or rather, in ways she doesn't feel comfortable doing. Lifting her skirt is out of the question; the split does that enough for her.

In any case, Jill manages to slide away from most of the attention and practically collapse in a chair, taking care to tug one part of the skirt over another to cover her bare leg. She's there by herself for only a few moments before someone asks for the seat next to her. A glance at where the voice comes from leaves Jill... well, a bit stunned. The corset is definitely one she's seen the ladies of the brothel back home wear, so it's not that. On a man, however, is where she's never expected to see it. But if he's comfortable, Jill will not say a thing. It's not her place to judge after all.

And there's no real reason to tell him he can't sit here either, so she nods and smiles politely at him.]

You may.

[subigito]

[ Astarion sits, careful of the expensive silks as he does, making sure nothing is getting pinched in the wrong way or folded awkwardly. These are important and stolen goods, apparently!

Jill is obviously also signed up for this quest, but she looks rather out of her element here, or at least, she seems uncomfortable in the dress, given the way she's tugging on it.

Astarion isn't like Tav. He doesn't just help people out of the goodness of his heart or ask every stranger about their problems. But this woman must be a corsair, which means they're teammates. And if she's uncomfortable it'll make their guests uncomfortable which will make everyone else have to work harder. This is obviously good logic and he's still not a good person! Satisfied with his own bullshit reasoning as to why he should, in fact, help her, he decides to engage. ]

It doesn't show as much as you think it does. The dress, I mean. It is obviously meant to be tasteful but teasing.

wildcard

[acheat]

[Chances were good the drow was somewhere in the building the entire time. After all, how could he just ignore this, especially with such a familiar face being involved?

Not that Astarion would be approached by him throughout the majority of his time here, the man was working after all and doing an excellent job of it. Besides, the drow wasn't in much of a sharing mood. He'd every intention of monopolizing Astarion's time, and that was far easier to do when he didn't have to compete with a room full of people and a potentially watchful boss.

No, rather, it was right afterwards, just precisely about when Astarion received his payment and retired to remove all the fine silk frippery, that Jarlaxle would make his entrance.]

Were the bustle able to be removed and replaced with ease, you could conceivably wear it for any occasion.

[Hey there, how's it going, he sure did just let himself in, surprise. Right there at the door frame, torn between admiring the view, and trying to get a good look at the gun that Astarion had just gotten from the Mistress. He never did get to play around with one, Fun Police Officer Xenk saw to that.]

Forgive me for not speaking with you earlier, I didn't wish to interrupt you in the middle of work.

[subigito]

[ He thought he saw a bit of a shadow! Turns out it was his favorite one. He smiles when he sees him, glad for the familiar face. ]

That's not a bad idea! I'd be awfully distracting. All the better to catch someone unawares.

[ He stands up a little straighter, so Jarlaxle can get the full view. See? He's as pretty as a peacock. And definitely distracting. Also, the heels he's wearing are making the height difference that much more obvious.

Jarlaxle should be able to see the gun. He's still deciding whether to keep this dress (if it can be called that) or pick a different one, so there's no fabric in his hand to hide it, and few places to hide it on his body for the moment. ]

I appreciate the consideration. They were easy marks. [ so, boring, ] It is far better to see your handsome face.

C ᓚᘏᗢ

[gr1m]

Account for kickback, for one.

[Even small guns had a little, and could seem worse fo those not used to them.

Someone had moved in without a sound, and may have been watching Astarion for a moment- and that tone of voice always carried a low growl to it, but otherwise calm. Given he hadn't wasted any time he'd thrown together something so he was dressed to blend in amongst the Corsairs, and likely unrecognizable outside of his voice; even if it was somewhat filtered through his mask.

Which was being lifted by a sharp metal claw of his gloves as Reaper tipped his head, the glow of red eyes visible from the shadow of hood and mask combined.]

New to guns?

[subigito]

[ it takes him a moment to put together that it is Reaper. A tilt of his head in curiosity at first, wondering why he's being approached. But the mask reminds him how Reaper had said he wanted his back, and the red eyes are certainly memorable. ]

Looks like you finally found your things.

[ it is said like a statement, but he's really using it to confirm that it is indeed reaper. ]

I've never used a gun before, no. I'm used to a bow for ranged attacks.

a. backstage

[phoenixdominant]

[Joshua is ... not the type to dress up like this. While he enjoys soft silks and luxurious clothing just as much as the next royal prince he just never thought that he would be put into something so feminine. The mistress had been quite insistent with Joshua, though. Exclaiming again and again how Joshua's pretty and soft features and delicate and slim body would go perfectly with the tight corset she tied to him. And while, as a Rosarian who is not new to corsets... He's in one that feels entirely new. It's much too revealing.

None the less, Joshua tries to be open-minded. As he adjusts a cuff of his own gown he looks up to see another man has joined him in the dressing room. Joshua curiously glances over him before he hears that small self-assuring comment and Joshua is obliged to gently add,]

You do. I hope you don't mind me saying as such.

[subigito]

[ Ironic, how he can see Joshua in the mirror but not himself. He takes a moment to remove the passing sadness that comes with the thought from his face and then turns around with a smile, pleased with the compliment. ]

Why, thank you! You might just be my new favorite person here. Flattery will give you everywhere.

[ Astarion looks him over, obviously taking a moment to appreciate the way the cut of the gown complements Joshua's body. ]

That suits you well. The mistress clearly has a trained eye for this sort of thing.

a.

[unshod]

[While Astarion knows why he agreed to this, Fenris does not know why he agreed to this. Maybe it was the misguided thought this would be easy money by selling the dress he gets, but ultimately, if that ever was a thought it doesn't linger very long because by the time he's in the backroom in a dressing room, he's already regretting everything.

Dressed in a high low skirt and an unlaced corset he struggles with the laces for a moment before stepping out of his dressing room to find someone who could help him lace up the dreaded garmet. He started this, might as well finish it, he wasn't about to let his pride scare him away from what should be an easy mission.

There he sees Astarion looking into a mirror dressed in an outfit that would only be modest on Isabela, but from where Fenris stands, he sees nothing reflected back.. magic? Strange magic if it is. Why would a mirror fail to reflect? Was this a vampire thing?

The words catch his long ears. Something about them ring hallow to him.]

Red suits you. [He means it.] Might I ask for your assistance with these laces?

[subigito]

[ It's definitely a vampire thing!

But at the compliment--and from Fenris, no less--Astarion perks up and smiles, turning to face him. For all their similarities, the differences between them strike him. Fenris's scars are much more extensive than his, but he doesn't shy away from them. He could've asked for something that covered more, but just stands there, owning his own body. Did that confidence come from having killed his master? Having wrested back his freedom? Or had he always known how to be so self-assured?

Astarion's belief in himself was nothing more than lies. But Fenris had an air about himself that felt natural.

And so, in that same false bravado, he responds: ]

Thank you, I think so too.

[ But he can't say for certain, because he can't see. He doesn't know what the red of his eyes looks like or how his white hair looks against his pale skin. He can't really imagine the picture he cuts all dressed up like this if it was all put together.

Still, he has no intention of wallowing in self-pity. It was a momentary hesitation. And Fenris gives him something to focus on. ]

Of course.

[ Astarion walks around him to stand behind and start with the laces. He's careful, as he does, not to touch Fenris's skin. ]

Take a deep breath.

MANTA Board: pickpocketing practice

[subigito]

a. pickpocketing 101 (corsairs) -- nsfw

[ Astarion signed up for this seminar on pickpocketing because the quest board said he should. Wait, no, because he had to. He wouldn't pick up a quest out of the goodness of his heart! Maybe he just wants to see what the Corsairs are really working with here.

But also, he literally doesn't need to be here at all. Mr. 12th-Level-Rogue could give a masterclass in pickpocketing. He has a +13 to sleight of hand and he literally can't roll below a 10. That's a 23, minimum. The math doesn't lie!!!

So, yes, Astarion is here. But he's in the back of the class room (class area, whatever). And you know how some people doodle random things while they're listening to people talk? Astarion has apparently decided to take up cross-stitching. Look, his apartment needs adornments. So he's got his little round fabric (I don't cross-stitch but you know what I'm talking about) and grid and he appears to be stitching a floral dick. A flower that looks like a dick? A dick that looks like a flower? He's stitching it.

Is he supposed to be paying attention? Don't bother him, he's in the zone. ]

b. practical application (open to all).

[ Having lived through the most boring description of pickpocketing he's maybe ever heard, Astarion is turned loose to go help himself to random people's goods. Well that's just a regular day in Baldur's Gate!

Astarion is a force of nature when it comes to stealing goods. He's in and out of shadows, he works distractions to his advantage, his fingers are nimble as they slide into pockets and purses and bags. He finds himself much richer for it by the end of the day and with a very nice string of pearls. Whether you catch a glimpse of him between the shadows and get to see him work, or find him later admiring his take, Astarion has certainly found a quest to be committed to. ]

c. Gee, Officer Paladin! (paladins)

[ Astarion was caught. This is unfortunate on many levels, but extra unfortunate that it's a paladin and not just some random person he might have more easily weaseled his way out of consequences. ]

I can explain.

you have been caught stealing

[partybabysitter]

[ Everyone rolls a 1 every now and then, Astarion. Now the question is, can you talk your way out of it? Of course you can.

Still, Xenk's immediate response is to raise a single eyebrow. He can't say he's surprised, he knows Astarion is a rogue. This is what they do. Astarion offered up his skills at lockpicking, and Xenk has consorted with worse crimes than this.

Still, there's a note of disappointment in his tone. But it's laced with amusement. He expects this explanation to be good. ]

Very well. Explain yourself.

[subigito]

[ Astarion almost laughs when he realizes who caught him. He refrains, though, because he has to uphold The Gravity Of the Situation. You know, for Xenk. ]

I've been conscripted into a life of crime. The Corsairs insist on teaching us these skills [ he already knew them ] and then insist that we must practice them! I couldn't very well turn them down. I'm trapped, you see, between the code of the Corsairs, and the laws of the Paladins.

a, how could anyone resist

[theleadingman]

[In much the same vein, Balthier is also here to get a better idea of how these Corsairs operate and what they have to offer— he certainly doesn't need to be taught how to steal anything, though pickpocketing is a bit low-brow by his standards. He's always been the sort to prefer a good heist, but every good pirate must start somewhere, and he's keen to know what sorts he'll be working with in the immediate future— at least until he gets his own ship and can decide the crew for himself. Once a captain, always a captain; he's never been very good at taking orders, and that's not about to change now, though he's willing to forbear for the time being.

At a glance, he's paying more attention to the seminar than Astarion seems to be, though only just. He, too, has taken a seat towards the back, giving himself the opportunity to watch as many people present as possible, but even as he silently tries to take the measure of his potential crewmates, he can't help but notice Astarion's work.

He leans over, raising a brow as he cranes his neck to get a better look.]

Flashy one, isn't he?

[It's floral.]

thank you for biting on the cross stitching its some of my best work

[subigito]

He is, isn't he?

[ See, look, this is rogue skills on display. He's having a nice and quiet conversation, whispered but clear. They won't bother anyone but they can talk about his craftsmanship! ]

I figured it should be tasteful, if I'm going to display it.

B

[spectacleofphantasmagoria]

[While he is a part of the corsairs, Lyney is not a fan of thieves. As a performing magician, thieves give those in his profession a bad name, as people liken the disappearing acts of magicians to the thieving nature of thieves. The comparison isn't one Lyney cares for, but even he can't deny the similar skillset the two occupations share. And being as skilled a magician as he is, he knows how to spot sleight-of-hand distractions and the subtle movements of would-be thieves.]

[Ever the performer, Lyney is performing an impromptu magic show on one of the street corners. He has a fairly decent crowd, and even in this town of scallywags he's found a favourable audience. He also, however, notices the white-haired man skulking around the outskirts of the audience. His intuition kicks in, and he decides to try and spoil this man's idea of fun.]

And now, for my next trick...

[It's a trick he's done plenty of times in the Court of Fontaine, wherein he takes another's borrowed pocket watch and makes it vanish with a flourish. As he makes a show of asking where the pocket watch has gone off to, his unknown magician's assistant is making his own move. Just as Astarion is about to pickpocket someone in the audience, he'll hear a meow sound nearby, just as a round, black cat jumps up his back onto his shoulder. It meows loudly to get everyone's attention as it 'appears' magically, the participating audience member's pocket watch neatly tied around its neck.]

And there you have it! It reappeared right before your very eyes! Let's give Rosseland a big round of applause, everyone!

[It's not a direct call-out, and those around Astarion just think it's part of the performance. But there's a knowing look in Lyney's eye as he applauds as well, looking Astarion's way.]

Etc.; Housing

[subigito]

[ Astarion is absolutely thrilled to have his own space all to himself. Sure, he's got a room on the boat, too, but he barely pays attention to that. It's his apartment that gets all the attention. Small though it may be, he's taken the time to really make it his. Decedent silk sheets, golden goblets (stolen) tastefully sitting out next to bottles of aged liquor. (Brandy seems to be his favorite, but he's got a nice little mix). His bathroom is all set up with all kinds of little bottles and vials and kits of various forms of makeup. Some he's definitely never worn in his life, but you never know when you need something for a disguise! A chest at the bottom of his bed holds a number of his items from home. A bookshelf is already collecting a number of books, and a lovely jewel-inlaid dagger is on display on one of the shelves. There's a cute little planter near the window has a variety of plants and mushrooms (all poisonous, except the rosemary). He's started putting up a couple of delightfully lewd cross-stitches, mostly as a joke for himself.

Whether you decided to come over for a little housewarming, are just here on a social call, wanted to come over for a drink or some arts and crafts, or are here to get lucky--this is the prompt for you! ]

I am SO SORRY to astarion for this misfire, she's a hot mess... /face in hands

[garudas]

[Apologies to the poor soul (Astarion) who ends up with this bottle rolling up to him as he goes about his day and minds his own business. How it magically appeared is anyone's guess (Benedikta flung it into the ocean with little regard for where it might end up—and this is why one should always read the MANTA board very carefully), but he will receive a very "heartfelt", angry letter scribbled in messy writing should he choose to un-crumple it.]

fuck you

fuck you for thinking that you could walk back into my life as if you weren't the one to leave it first. Convenient for you, isn't it?

I hate you for leaving. I hate you for pretending like it was my fault when we know that it was you. Not as righteous as you think, are you?

six years I lived with this, cidolfus

if you hate me so much then leave me alone

[Someone is really going to regret this later.]

LOL are you kidding this is the funniest thing he's read all week

[subigito]

[ ooh this is juicy as fuck. He loves it?? I mean literally they go around peoples homes reading all their letters and shit this is delightful.

The letter she gets back is written in BEAUTIFUL fantasy cursive. The letter writer clearly cares about a good letter -- and good gossip! ]

Did I get inserted into a lover's quarrel? It appears someone decided to take the MANTA Board very seriously!

Very well, you have asked the sea for advice, and the sea shall deliver:

Dear Yet More Fucks To Give,

This "Cidolfus" does not sound like they are worth your time. If they have framed you for their own ill deeds and have flaunted their sense of righteousness at you, they have only added insult to already grievous injury. As they say, there are plenty of fish in the sea, my dear. I suggest you start fishing.

The solution could reap untold rewards! At best, you will find someone worth your time who will not drive you to bottled up (do forgive the pun) anger. At worst, you'll drive them absolutely mad with jealousy, which sounds like just desserts.

(As an aside, I have found jealous sex to be particularly fun--and what more of a fuck you than bedding and running out the window at first light of dawn? It is classic for a reason.)

It does sound like you are placing all the agency of this relationship in their hands. Darling, the choice is always yours. Do not give up what power belongs to you.

Warmest of tidings,

[ that's another sea pun. Get it? Tide? Tidings? ]

The Sea

MANTA Board: bottle voyage

[subigito]

[ all of Astarion's letters are penned in a delicate, almost flowery script. Someone is clearly from a fantasy canon! ]

1. Is there actually any point to writing these messages? This quest does not appear to pay in anything but experience.

2. If you were forced to choose, would you rather be cursed to feed on the blood of the living or the brains of the intelligent?

3. How do you know if you care about someone? Inquiring on the behalf of a friend.

4. Even as long as we have been here now, I find myself looking over my shoulder. A practical worry, if also a bit of an unnecessary one. Despite the kindness that has been offered to me, I am afraid that I would be hunted if anyone knew the truth about what I am. Each new person that has learned has taken it in stride but I do not believe that all will be so forgiving. I cannot afford to believe that will be the case.

But keeping secrets is far more tiring than I remember. Or perhaps it has become more tiring, after I was finally able to tell the truth. It feels as though I have taken several steps back. A retreat, into the darkness, where once there had been light. (If you'll forgive the self-indulgent metaphor.) I know the point of this exercise is to ask for advice, but I doubt there is any that would make me feel at ease. Silly as it is, the thought of casting this concern adrift is comforting in and of itself.

[ The bottles are sent at different times throughout the month, in the order they appear above. As the month went on, Astarion obviously got more into the idea of sending these letters despite his initial insistence that this quest was pointless. ]

2

[partybabysitter]

[ This very familiar penmanship rolls a 6+7 INSIGHT CHECK: FAILURE which Xenk fails to identify. It does look so familiar, though... and given the subject, he suspects the author may be Astarion.

But just in case, he will operate as if it may not be. ]

Easily, I would rather feed on blood than on intelligent brains. Drinking blood causes only minor harm to the victim, while consuming brains kills the victim in every instance.

3

[ramuhs]

[WELL ISN'T THIS ON POINT RIGHT NOW—well sure might as well. Maybe someone else can benefit from his unfortunate experience and timeless wisdom.]

Depends on what kind of "caring" your "friend" is thinking about.

[Yeah not believing that part one bit—]

Friendly? Romantic? But the moment you start worrying about someone or concerned about their well-being, then you're already "caring."

Maiden Voyage: Capture the Flag, Learning the Ropes, Special Delivery

[subigito]

one. do not pass go (open)

[ Astarion seems to really commit to the caputre the flag game because, among other things, it lets him show off his rather particular skill set. Naturally, he sneaks around and tries to help capture the flags and maybe you'll catch him in and out of shadows as he does.

But his real help comes with the jail. With a +13 to slight of hand, Astarion rarely meets a lock he can't pick. Whenever a particularly worthwhile teammate gets locked in, Astarion sneaks his way over and picks the lock to get them out. Maybe it's you he's springing free--or maybe you're the angry Paladin who just lost their charge. ]

two. learning the ropes (corsairs)

[ By the end of the first day on the ship, Astarion is absolutely exhausted. His arms feel like limp noodles and he's got what's clearly the start of a horrendous sunburn (he's very pale, as if anyone hadn't noticed that already). He's also starving. He'd had a sizable meal the night before, but he hadn't expected to work so hard.

He ends up sitting pathetically next to a barrel on deck under the moonlight sky. He has the air of just being too tired to go below deck, but the reality is he's missed the night sky. Sure, the sun was great! It was new, and novel. But novelty started to wear off in the hours under its hot rays and the night has become rather important to him after these 200 years.

Besides, this is a long way from home. These are not his stars, nor is this his moon, and he can't remember ever being on a boat at sea before, but at least he can take a moment for himself.

Well, so long as hes not bothered.

And after he's done here, it'll be time to grab a bite to eat. ]

three. one star rating on the delivery apps (open)

[ Look, the thing is, he knows you're not supposed to open boxes that don't belong to you. He's met the Zhentarim. And by "met," I of course mean, "pissed off." And, really, he's been very good about it. On the ride over to this random island for delivery he was content to simply let the box, which is shaking and generally being suspicious as all hells, just sit there, just normal.

But he just wants to know so badly.

So eventually when they send him off to go deliver the package, he just wants to have a little looksie, you know? Just like, open the box, see what's inside, close the box.

Simple.

Click goes the lock, singing for him so sweetly when he presents it with his thieves tools. Perfectly dexterous fingers unlocking the thing with ease. The lock falls into his open palm for safeguarding until he's ready to lock it again. A perfectly executed lockpick.

He opens the box.

And then in, a flash of angry claws and teeth, some manner of hellbeast leaps out of the box and scurries off far faster than he can either react or catch it--off in to the dense jungle of the island, and away from the destination to deliver this thing. ]

Well, fuck.

3

[partybabysitter]

[ What a lovely coincidence to run into Astarion while out on a mission! Xenk had just returned from some do-gooding by the docks when he spots the elf in the corner of his vision.

Following his Divine Sense, Xenk is able to track him down—and witness the tail end of whatever the hell that was. He rushes to Astarion's side, sword at the ready. ]

Astarion! Are you alright!? [ He looks down at the box, almost afraid to ask more questions... ] What manner of creature was that?